#day11: Midnight - Midnight was present, staying between past and future, existing between lived and mystery, but for whom all was known, it meant the most precious moment in time.

"What's this noise?"

Clockwork adjusted his staff and ignored the demanding tone of the other. After all, closing out the trapped ghost's behaviour was the most logical and rational action. Not that, the master of time would have got 'time' to handle him and react to every single empty threat, shouting or anything that he could come up with since he was – with certain wording – under watch. And on the other hand, he needed time on his own, and that was what Clockwork was giving him, nothing else but time.

"Answer me," he repeated, now, with a more pretentious way. Clockwork fixed the last gear with a half-smile and turned towards the thermos-like object, shifting to a middle-aged form. All things considered, time had to come when he got his answers, and maybe that was the perfect moment for it – but then again, it was always clear when certain events were supposed to happen, and it had to happen now.

"Well, well… look who got his tongue back." Clockwork teased the ghost with the most common tone, like he would have returned after a very predicted bad idea, surprised by that it didn't turn out well.

Silence followed the note, but only momentarily, just as, being wordless was not one of his most practised attitudes or either one of his nice attributes – especially not here, unable to do anything but using his voice if he wanted something. And poorly his wishes rolled around the same issue, not even changing a little by the time. One could have thought that would change sooner or later, but partly that part wasn't supposed to happen here, and on the other hand, he wasn't still on the path to be more – not yet, anyway.

At least he had been wordless for a while – seething of course over the fact that his vocal threats didn't manage to reach the hoped effect, that was, without an opponent to play, like talking to the void and excepting answers from the endless darkness. And after a certain time, he even realised Clockwork wouldn't participate in those pointless games. If he was once succeeded to step over on those hating words, then, maybe there was a chance to get a reaction, telling he wasn't alone, and the other wasn't ignoring him completely, but until then… and that time didn't come either. He remained quiet, realising that and for him even the silence was speaking.

"The noise, Clockwork" the trapped ghost said again, claiming after the explanation. "What makes this noise?"

The master of time glimpsed towards the screen. The answer was clear, but in truth, even if it always meant a soft spot, but right now, it was just 'put it on' to grab his attention – meanwhile, of course, enjoying the kaleidoscopic parade too.

"You know what it is." Clockwork pointed to him. "You can recall it."

There was a bit of silence, obviously by the thinking, and fighting against not retorting to the lecture straight away as it was sounded – learning by the previous tries, that his common attitude hadn't led him anywhere so far. After a short quietness, he spoke in fine.

"Is it the fourth of July?" the ghost asked, with a slightly inquiring tone, giving it by the impact that maybe, behind the question there was a hidden investigation about trying to define how much time had elapsed since he was captured. But of course, that would have meant he was intended to care with something, which wasn't an issue – not yet anyway. This time it was only for being more frustrated if the answer was unpreferred for him.

"No," Clockwork said then, shifting into a child form, absently observing the moving clock within the staff. Five minutes, it said.

"Hm." the master of time could almost make out, hearing the other tapping thoughtfully. "Is it New Year's Eve then?" came the other guessing.

"No." was it said, accompanied with a small smile, a little bit of enjoyment in the voice. Maybe they could play this game, but it would have been pointless, partly because it was rather a fused scene from years, from places, and times, and also, with him, such a game like that would have been unimaginable. Though that would be interesting too, passing the time with that, but then again, the clock was ticking and also he already served his time – not yet, but it was five minutes before that certain time.

"Uh- pass?" he said then, (kind of) admitting his defeat by that note. Clockwork gazed at the screen, to the view, letting the other hearing the 'noise', leaving the answer for the riddle untold.

Four… The minute hand moved ahead inside the staff. Soon then.

Clockwork stared at the screen, mesmerised. The master of time, always admired these occasions, especially when humans connected them with the beginning of a new year. Those times were like fixpoints in the timestream, merged into one certain moment. There was the past behind them, the future ahead, waiting for them. And while the people were watching the fireworks, there was just the present, with no weight of the past, no uncertainty of the future, just living in the present at one certain moment, in some terms, locked in time.

Three...

The screen shifted into an enormous dance of fireworks, with a merged mess of voices, hissing, whistling, crackling, humming and booming. Although the trapped ghost couldn't see it, Clockwork was sure, he could imagine it too, or (maybe even) recalling it from a forgotten memory, after all, this particular occasion was chosen from his time, four years before everything had started to change. A millennial event was it indeed.

Two...

Clockwork let the picture completely fill the place, clearing the path that was on to form, just as on New Year's Eve, fused into duality: joy – fear, darkness – light, silence – noise, past – future.

One…

And now, both ghosts were just enjoying it without any word, but soon, the present had to shift into something coming. And it was high time to happen. Clockwork looked around and smiled, floating to the Fenton's specialised ghost-capturing thermos, giving a quick glimpse at the time staff.

Twelve.

The huge pendulum moved, making the sound echoing within the walls, then another, then another beat was heard one after the other, telling the time. Clockwork didn't have to count it, and even the ghost commented on it without asking it, as the last echoing voice died away.

"It's midnight," he said, almost sounding surprised. After all, indeed, this place was frozen in time, how time then was supposed to exist – he must have taken the question. Clockwork didn't want to give him the explanation, and even the answer for that anomaly was quite clear too. Just as after some millennia since the master of time was existing, being a bit theatrical always meant joy and Clockwork was really good at creating atmospheric scenes for things that were in a way special...

"Indeed, it is." was it confirmed. And by that, the time stuff moved towards the thermos, ensuring the flow of events, and bringing a new start.

A/N: Freedom is the continuation for this one.